


I think I've gone insane.

by sinfullyginger



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-05-20
Updated: 2011-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-19 15:05:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfullyginger/pseuds/sinfullyginger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amy's home from travelling with the Doctor, so she runs downstairs to tell Rory all about it. But Rory doesn't remember the Doctor. Everyone thinks she's proper insane, especially Rory.<br/>Sherlock and John are investigating "suicides" that are taking place at a nearby mental institution.<br/>Amy sees a therapist because Rory insists that she sort herself out. But what happens when Amy gets sent to the same mental institution that these suspicious suicides are happening at?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I think I've gone insane.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter out of I'm not sure how many. I assume it's going to be long-ish. I just wanted to post this first chapter after coming up with idea, because I thought it was a rather splendid idea. So I just wanted to get it out there. See what people think. I hope you like it! :)

"I'M NOT CRAZY!" Amy yelled, on the verge of tears. Amy suddenly broke down; she collapsed to the floor, tears streaming down her face.

"Why don't you beleive me?" She asked, in between sobs. "It happened. It happened. It really did," Amy continued, getting quieter and quieter, until she was seemingly talking to herself, as if she was trying to convince herself as well.

Rory looked down at her in disbelief and slight disgust. Normally, Rory would be sympathetic and supportive of Amy no matter what, but he's had enough. Amy isn't a young girl any more; she shouldn't have an imaginary friend. This shouldn't be happening. Amy needs serious help. Her delusions were more elaborate than ever. Rory just couldn't deal with this any longer. He can't sit here and take this anymore. And he sure as hell is not going to dress up as her precious "Raggedy Doctor" again. Amy needed to sort herself out before Rory could handle being around her again.

Rory turned away to leave, but Amy grabbed on to his pant leg.

"Rory!" she called out, "Don't leave. Don't leave," she said, shaking her head, crying her eyes out. "You have to believe me," she said desperately. Rory looked down on her, tears filling his eyes.

"No, Amy. I can't," he said, sternly. It broke his heart to see her like this, but he can't help her carry on this fantasy any longer. Amy looked up at him, looking absolutely broken. Her life seemed to be falling apart around her.

"B-b-b-b-but," she stammered. She didn't know what to say. Rory's always been there for her. But now, now she didn't even know what now. How? How could this be happening? She gripped on to his pant leg tighter and put her head down. She started shaking her head violently. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," she mumbled to herself. This can't be happening. "But, Rory," she looked back up at him, "Rory, you-you," she started, barely even capable of thought, "You-you! You were there! Remember? The-the eye! Remember the eye? Uh, uh, Prisoner Zero has escaped! Remember? I'm the Doctor. Basically, run. Remember??" Rory was staring back at her like she was some kind of lunatic.

"No, Amy," he said, bluntly.

Amy was taken aback. She opened her mouth, but her mind couldn't even find words to decribe how she felt, and even if it could, she probably wouldn't even be speak them. "B-b-b-but, R-Rory," was all she could think of.

"No, Amy. Any that you think happened regarding this 'Doctor' didn't happen. The Doctor isn't real, Amy," he said, insistently.

"He is!" she cried. "He's as real as you and me!" Tears were flowing down her face once again.

"Amy!" Rory yelled. Amy fell backwards, dumbfounded. Rory has never yelled at her like this, if at all. "The Doctor is not real! You're delusional! You can't just sit here and tell me that he is! I played along when we were younger...but Amy, you can't keep insisting that this imaginary Doctor is real! Why can't you be happy with the people in your real life? Are you so unhappy with your life that you have to keep making up stories? Are you so unhappy with me that you have to make up this man, this Doctor?" he yelled, bitterly.

"N-n-no. R-rory. Why would think that?" Amy asked, breath uneven from crying. She was shocked at him for thinking such a thing. She was never, ever unhappy with Rory. Rory was her life. But the Doctor made her life...livable. She would definitely be lost without Rory, but she was bored to tears without the Doctor.

"TOMORROW IS OUR WEDDING DAY!" he screamed. Amy instantly started bawling. Rory has never, ever screamed at her in this way; he has never, ever been this angry with her. It was scary and unnerving. "WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU SUPPOSEDLY RUN OFF WITH ANOTHER MAN AND GO GALLAVANTING ABOUT TIME AND SPACE THE NIGHT BEFORE OUT WEDDING IF YOU WERE HAPPY WITH ME?!"

"Rory..." Amy said, in between sobs.

"No, Amy. Just no. I don't want to hear what you have to say. The wedding is off. You need to get yourself sorted," he said, crossly and unyieldingly. He then turned around and stormed off, slamming the door behind him.

"Rory..." she pathetically called after him, knowing he wasn't going to come back. She collasped to floor completely and started sobbing uncontrollably. How could this be happening? How did it even get to this point? This was all the Doctor's fault. Why does he always do this to her? Amy could barely think. Rory had just left her. A thing that she never, in a million years thought would happen. Rory was gone. The Doctor was gone. Everyone, well, Rory, thought she was crazy. Everyone else would probably think she's crazy, too, though. Amy thoughts drifted... She thought about all the choices she had made that led her up to this point... And she eventually cried herself to sleep, on the hard floor of her bedroom.

***

Sherlock sat on the couch, staring blankly at the program playing on the telly, his hands steepled.

"Sherlock?" John called from the kitchen, noticing the detective's blank stare, "Is there a case? You've got that look that you always get when there's a case."

Sherlock rubbed his two pointer fingers back and forth over his bottom lip, hands still steepled. "Not exactly," he murmured. "There's been a couple suicides, or at least the police think they're suicides."

"And you don't?" asked John, curiously.

"There's something suspicious about them. They all took the same poison. They all died in unusual locations. They're all not necessarily suicidal. I wouldn't say they were happy, but they were all trying to get better. There's not enough proof to try to get the police to bring up the case, plus they're all mental patients, so the police aren't even bothered." Sherlock explained.

"Wait, they're mental patients?" John asked, walking over to the couch across from Sherlock with his freshly made tea in hand. "So how are suicides in mental patients unusual?"

"See? You have the exact same mentality at the police. They weren't the suicidal type of mental patients. They were people with eating disorders, mild, mild cases of drug addiction, and other mild socially inept-type disorders. They were all mild cases. If any of them were remotely suicidal, they would be on high watch. They couldn't possibly have committed suicide under such close watch."

"So did these people have any other connection to each other besides the mental disease?" John asked.

"They were all in the same institution. Before you say anything, it was a low security institution. An insitution for people with mild cases. People who weren't suicidal or mad enough to be in be in a proper institution, but they were still potentially dangerous to themselves or others, so they had to put in a facility. It was kind of like a rehabilitation clinic. None of them show any signs of being suicidal, otherwise they'd be in a higher security institution."

"Okay, alright. So other than them not being suicidal, why are these suicides suspicious?"

"They all took the same poison! They all died in locations they've probably never even been to!" Sherlock repeated.

"Right, right." John said, nodding.

"And! None of them lefts notes," Sherlock said, impressively.

"No notes?" John asked. Now, that was unusual.

"No notes." Sherlock echoed, with the teeniest hint of a smirk on his lips. "But, as I said earlier, the police are convinced that they are simply suicides. So, we must go around the police to figure out what's going on. We're going to need more proof if we want the police to take us seriously."

"Us?" John asked. "When did it become an 'us'?"

"I need an assistant, John," Sherlock said, simply.

"But, go around the police?" John asked, skeptically, "How?"

"Don't worry. I've got a plan," Sherlock said, a smug smile planted firmly on his lips.

***

"There's this man called the Doctor. I met him when I was about 7," Amy explained to the therapist she decided to see. She wanted Rory back, and she'd do anything to make it happen. "He appeared in my back garden. He was in a giant blue box and he was dripping wet. I still remember it all like it was yesterday. He was the strangest man," Amy said, eyes lighting up. "He was ridiculous. He said he was hungry, but didn't like anything I made him, but he didn't know he didn't like them, as if it was the first time he's ever eaten them. And the only thing he would eat was fish fingers and custard," Amy said, laughing affectionately. "Well anyway, there was a crack in my wall, and he said he'd fix it for me. So he went back to his big blue box, and said he'd be back in five minutes..." she trailed off, downcast.

"Then what happened?" the therapist asked, scribbling down notes onto the notepad in her hands.

"Well, he hopped into his blue box. And it vanished right before my eyes. I then ran back into my house and packed up my things and waited outside for him to come back... And he never did." Amy explained, melancholic.

"So this man. You said he was a doctor? Doctor who?" the therapist asked.

"Just the Doctor," Amy clarified, "I called him the Raggedy Doctor when I was young," she recalled, fondly. "I drew pictures of him. I even made Rory dress up as him. Everyone thought I was crazy. I saw 4 therapists," she said, somberly.

"If you've seen 4 therapists already, why are you at another one? Has 'the Doctor' made another appearance?"

"He came back 12 years after I first saw him. He thought he was only away for a couple hours at most," Amy laughed bitterly, "And he still looked exactly the same. After I was through yelling at him, he fixed the crack in my wall and essentially saved the world. And everyone saw him! All my friends and family saw him! Thus proving he was real and that I wasn't crazy. Rory saw him! Rory met him! Rory was there when the Doctor defeated that giant monster eye on the roof of the hospital! Rory was there when the Doctor sent away that evil alien spaceship and prevented them from destroying Earth! Rory was there when the Doctor fixed all that nonsense with Prisoner Zero! But now.. but now he doesn't remember..."

"Any other 'Doctor' encounters?"

"He came back last night, nearly two years after the Prisoner Zero incident. After said incident, he told me he'd be back soon. But I realized that 'soon' in 'Doctor time' is much different. So he came back last night, the night before my wedding, and asked me if I wanted to travel with him. Because apparently the blue box I mentioned earlier is a space ship, but not only does it travel through space, it also travels through time. So naturally, I said yes," Amy said, then continued to explain all the places he travelled with the Doctor, "I was probably travelling with him for weeks, then he dropped me off back at my house, and it was the same day I had left. It was still the night before my wedding. It was as if I never even left," Amy said, neglecting to mention the part where she made a move on the Doctor, "So I went downstairs and told Rory all about it, but he didn't believe me. He thought I was crazy. So I took him up to my bedroom to prove it to him, but the Doctor and his blue box weren't there anymore. Then Rory and I fought, and he left me. Today would have been our wedding day... I could have been married by now..."

"Well..." the therapist started, looking at her notes.

***

"Pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up," Amy whispered into her cell phone.

"Hello," came a bitter greeting from the other end of her phone.

"Rory!" Amy exclaimed, thoroughly overjoyed and comforted by the sound of his voice.

"Don't make me regret picking up..." Rory whispered.

"I saw a therapist today."

"Really? That's good. That's, um, good," he replied, sounding relieved, "How'd it go?"

"She gave me some medication. And recommended that I be put into a home. She said that my 'delusions' can be potentially dangerous to myself and others," Amy explained, blankly.

"A home? Like a mental institution?" Rory asked, sounding worried.

"Yeah, a low security one. Just so they can monitor me whilst I take my meds and go through therapy sessions, just to make sure I'm getting better. I can still leave occasionally and have visitors and such."

"Well, you don't sound very happy about it. You don't have to go. All those types of things are totally voluntary."

"Well, I want to. I want to get.... better," Amy bit out that last word, reluctant to say it, almost as if it was not the word she'd use. "But the thing is, the nearest one is nearly two hours away, in London."

"Well," Rory started, then cleared his throat, "that sounds..um...doable, I guess. If that's what it's going to take for you to forget all about this 'Doctor' character."

Amy choked back tears. She didn't want to forget about the Doctor. She didn't want to be convinced that the Doctor wasn't real and that his TARDIS wasn't real and that everything she had with the Doctor wasn't real. Amy started openly sobbing.

"Amy? What's wrong?" Rory asked, voice full of concern and worry.

"I don't want to forget about the Doctor!" Amy cried.

"But, Amy... Amy, listen," Rory started, voice a mixture of disappointment and sympathy, "Are you at home?"

Amy nodded, then realized he couldn't see her and softly said, "Yes," in between sniffles.

"I'll be right there," he said then hung up. Amy shut her phone and set it on the floor. She slid down the wall, the put her knees up and buried her face in her arms. How could my life be going so wrong? How did it come to this? Sometimes I wish I had never met the Doctor. My life would be a lot simpler that way...Rory soon arrived and saw Amy huddled on the floor. He then kneeled down next to her and scooped her up into his arms.

"It's okay. Let it all out," Rory said, holding Amy's head to his chest. "I understand how hard this must be for you. The Doctor is real to you. And having everyone tell you he's not real must be heartbreaking. It's like everyone telling you that I'm not real, but you can see me here as clear as day. But the difference between me and the Doctor is that I'll always be here for you."

Amy looked up at Rory and wiped away her tears. Rory was the most amazing, kind, sweet, dependable, compassionate, considerate person she had ever met. Amy suddenly kissed him and pinned him down on the floor. Rory retracted a bit at first, out of surprise, but then kissed back passionately.

"I love you, Rory Williams."

"I love you, Amelia Pond."

**Author's Note:**

> ((don't worry, the smut will come soon. ;) ))


End file.
